


Hold You Closely

by orphan_account



Series: Chao's Kink Bingo [22]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Chains, Community: kink_bingo, Multi, Seriously fucked up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:06:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard did not kill Matt.  The Kanima killed Gerard.  Now Matt is looking for a bit of revenge for that night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold You Closely

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. MORE THAN POSSIBLY TRIGGERING.
> 
> The last of the non-con Kink Bingos, thank fuck.
> 
> Title from 'This is Such a Pity' by Weezer

It wasn’t the aches that woke him, or the cold air on his bare skin. It was the noise. The high, almost graceful sounds of metal chains shifting. Stiles’ brows drew together, twitching as he started to register his own body and surroundings again. The shifting was coming from right beside him, and he was pressed to... something. Thick and cold and maybe metallic. Stiles’ arms ached, and it took a minute to realize it was because they were stuck behind him, tied together around the metal something. Squares of cold practically burned into his skin, and he twitched his hands sleepily in an effort to make them feel better.

The movement made something _hiss_ , the sound reptile and dangerous, and Stiles froze as his memories started to trickle back. The night at the station. Matt getting away. Gerard Argent showing up dead, stomach sliced open. Allison and her father going into some kind of hiding. School the next day, where Stiles had felt on edge, _terrified_ , all day long. Going out for groceries after, dread curling in his stomach.

And then nothing. Well, one thing. The hiss of the Kanima. Stiles remembered that.

He started to shiver, which made the chains clank and chime ever so slightly. His movements must have been apparent, because there was a chuckle in front of him, not two feet away. Stiles went tense, trying to curl up on himself, but the chains prevented it. The chuckles became louder, more amused, and Stiles took a deep breath against the ball of terror and fury that had lodged itself in his throat.

Finally, he forced his eyes open, and found Matt kneeling in front of him, mouth spread in a amused, mean smile. The emotions didn’t reach his eyes, but Stiles didn’t think it was from being a creepy bastard. Instead, it was because they were slitted and cold. The Kanima curse was taking its toll then. _Good_.

Grinning with more teeth than he should have possessed, Matt reached around Stiles to play with the chains, pressing their upper bodies together. The other boy felt almost burningly hot against his chilled skin, and Stiles couldn’t help but try and press into the warmth, as much as he wanted to pull away. Matt chuckled again, clearly enjoying his struggles. “Figured out why you’re here yet?”

Letting out a low sigh, Stiles glared at his chest, and then his face when he finally pulled back. He ignored the way his body shivered all the harder for having that little warmth taken away. “Give me a few. I did just wake up.” His voice was clipped, anger barely hidden under each syllable, and Matt’s reptilian eyes narrowed.

“Call me impatient.” He replied, voice cold. Leaning forward, Matt grabbed Stiles’ chin in a bruising grip, tilting it up in a way designed to be uncomfortable. “We’re going to break you.” His voice was light, almost casual, but his grin was viciously pleased. “And then we’re going to dump you where the Pack will find you. And when they come to avenge you, we’ll kill them all for getting in my way.”

Stiles wanted to gag, but he turned it into a laugh instead. “Please. The only one who’ll care will be Scott, and Derek will stop him. What a waste.”

But Matt’s expression didn’t change at all. Instead, his eyebrows raised, all mock interest. “Really? That so. Huh. Guess we’ll just have to leave you for your father instead.”

Fuck. _Fuck_.

He should have tried to bluff that, or distracted him or _something, anything_ , but all Stiles could think about was his dad’s expression at Mom’s funeral. How broken he had looked. There was no way he could survive Stiles’ death, and he suddenly felt unforgivably selfish for putting himself in danger like this.

Swallowing against the way his stomach wanted to rebel, Stiles jerked forward, letting out his own hiss of pain when his sensitive, cold skin was brought to a brutal stop from the chains. “What do you _really_ want?” Because there had to be something. Something else he could do to fight this. He’d been able to talk his way out of everything else, and this couldn’t be the exception.

But Matt’s eyes were cool and unreadable, and his smile a long stretch across his face. “That’s it. I want you all to suffer, and this is the easiest way. Just strategy. And a little sadism, I suppose, but can you blame me?” But then he paused, tilting his head and slipping his hand down over Stiles’ neck to settle on his chest. “But I suppose I can have a different kind of fun first. After all, won’t that just be the icing on the cake later?”

This time, Stiles was able to try and jerk away, but he only hit the cold, metal rod behind him. “Oh, good. Let’s add ‘rapist’ to ‘murder’ and ‘stalker’.”

There wasn’t even a hesitation as Matt reached his hand back and slapped Stiles hard. For a second he went limp, head spinning too hard to focus, and when he was able to pick himself back up, Matt had pulled away, no longer smiling. “Not me,” he snapped, slitted eyes narrowed. “My Fury.”

Clearly that had been some kind of cue, because the Kanima hiss behind him and finally slunk into view, eyes trained on him. It was no less eerie to see those reptilian eyes in the proper face. The creature slid its way between them, movements even more unnerving this close, and Stiles shuddered as it breathed right into his face, showing off the needle-like teeth.

Without needing to be told, the Kanima ducked its head and started to touch. The claws didn’t pierce skin, instead dancing over his chest and arms in a way that made Stiles shiver harder than the cold. Its skin was smooth like a snake, and felt cool in a way that had nothing to do with actual temperature as it passed over his sternum and over one nipple. Had it not already been hard from the open air, that would have done it.

Stiles’ eyes snapped to Matt, confused. His brain refused to accept what his body was telling him, unable to believe he was being touched this way. That his first experience that wasn’t his hand was _this_. But the boy - no, that wasn’t right, Matt wasn’t a boy anymore. He was something different now. An abomination, just like the creature he wielded - only grinned, flashing those not-right teeth at him again. His hand, dotted with the discoloration of Kanima skin, reached into his pants and drew out his erection. Slowly pumping it, Matt narrowed his eyes. “Not enjoying it yet? We can fix that.”

The Kanima - not Jackson, definitely not Jackson, because Stiles would never be able to function around him again if it was Jackson - moved its mouth lower, pressing against his stomach and the dip of his hips with its long, sinuous tongue. It was just too cold, though, for Stiles to get any sort of reaction, and he wondered how they were both so active. Reflexively, his brain latched onto that train of thought, bringing up every fact he had ever learned about cold blooded animals rather than focus on what was happening.

But it didn’t help. Stiles still noticed every touch, every brush of the claws, and every noise Matt made, both moans and the slapping of him jerking off. No matter how he tried to scramble back and disassociate himself, his mind catalogued what was occurring, in a futile effort to find some kind of weakness. Once he couldn’t, Stiles reflexively start to jerk and pull, body resorting to animalistic measures in an effort to reach safety. All that did was yank the chain around, making the links chime against the floor and pole and dig into his skin, causing pain both from the raw skin and the bitter cold.

Something about his shudders must have been good for Matt, because he gave one final, long moan, and Stiles could hear the sound of liquid hitting the concrete floor. The Kanima drew up and moved slightly to the side, so Stiles had an unobstructed view of Matt tucking himself away and wiping his hand off on his jeans.

“Now, onto the main event.” Stalking forward, Matt started to move toward Stiles, and the Kanima drew closer with another hiss. But then both went utterly still and looked toward the door, going tense.

Then the door _exploded_.

Dust filled the air, and Stiles ducked his head to protect his eyes. Suddenly the whole places was chaos, dark shapes of bodies and loud noises filling the space around him. He could hear the hiss of the Kanima somewhere to the right, and the soft voice of... was that Lydia? What the hell?

As the air cleared, Stiles could see Lydia in front of the Kanima, holding something in her hand. The creature had stopped, watching the object with the closest equivalent of rapture its face could produce. Not far from there, Matt was being held back by all three of Derek’s Betas, mouth held shut as he struggled frantically, eyes furious. Then Boyd put a hand on either side of Matt’s head and _twisted_ , and the eyes went blank.

Reeling from the sudden change from danger to something that seemed like safety, Stiles went limp, making the chains clank once more. All eyes (the live ones, he realized with a shudder) snapped to him, and he tried to curl up to hide himself, all too aware of how bare he was and in what position. 

Jackson’s face, now devoid of any trace of Kanima but with new, bright blue eyes, was stricken, and Lydia pulled his head down and buried it in her shoulder. Seeing his crush defend Jackson from the _sight_ of him felt like a stab in the chest, even if he understood intellectually, and Stiles ducked his head so he wouldn’t have to see it anymore.

Footsteps approached, and suddenly there was heat around him and tugging at the chain. Tilting his head back up, Stiles blinked when he was met with the solid wall of a chest. Craning his neck, he could see it was Derek wrapping around him, hands moving as he started to rub heat and blood into his limbs. Unable to help himself, Stiles gave a little noise that he hoped no one else could tell was a sob and tried to lean into the touches. But that just jerked the chain more, and behind him a familiar voice - Scott, oh fuck, Scott was seeing him like this, no no no - shhed him soothingly. “Wait a second, buddy, okay? Just... you gotta wait.”

Stilling, Stiles closed his eyes and just soaked up the heat Derek was putting off. There was a _wrench_ , and he gave a pained noise as the chains stretched and jerked behind him, digging in for every bit that was pulled away. Scott apologized, voice almost frantic, and the rest of his tugs were gentler until he could finally slip his arms out.

As his arms started to ache from the new position, Derek scooped him up, and Stiles’ moan of pain turned into one of sheer relief. But Derek’s were only sharp, bright red in the gloom, and his eyes raked over Stiles’ form in a way that made him try and curl up to hide himself. “Did they touch you?”

Involuntarily, Stiles’ eyes jumped to Jackson, and saw the wide, glowing eyes trained on him. “No,” he replied, voice soft. “I’m fine. Cold, but fine.”

The eyes snapped shut and Jackson went tense, but Stiles was pretty sure he wouldn’t call his bluff. If nothing else, it would just implicate him, and he was under no illusion that Jackson would put himself out like that for his sake.

Derek didn’t look convinced, and neither did Scott, but apparently no one was willing to push the issue. Instead, Derek turned and started to march out, muttering about getting Stiles to the heated car. 

On the way out, Stiles saw Jackson turn to Lydia, expression serious and dark, and he wondered if he might have underestimated the other boy.


End file.
